I wonder why cats love to perch way up high.  Ever since T and I added a lovely blue armoire to our living room, Ms. Jazz has found herself atop it almost daily.  She finds company in our driftwood and autumnal pumpkins whose homes are on top of the armoire as she sleeps, sits, hunts birds (vicariously), and bathes herself (spreading her little kitty legs for all the world to see through our window).  It's definitely her most preferred spot.  


I notice the glimmer of pity in her eyes, but mostly a known omnipotence, at she peers down at her human minions from above.

T and I at a friend's wedding this summer - photos just posted.  I wanted to share because I love this photo of the two of us - silly and lighthearted and free.

Photo credit: http://iamkristenmarie.com/

Cold and rainy in Seattle tonight.  At home with cat and husband.  Making an Italian dinner - husband making dinner, I am reading and blogging - and looking forward to warm cider, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" and making Halloween costumes.

Almost-empty tea mugs sit on the coffee table (ironic) from reading together earlier this afternoon.  Feathers strewn on the floor from cat destroying cat toy earlier this afternoon.

Sound of knife on a cutting board, water boiling, timer beeping.  Smell of garlic.

Snuggle.

"I must learn to love the fool in me--the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my fool." 


-- Theodore I. Rubin, MD

So pertinent these days.

Just thinkin' about my mom today and the fact that she was born on this day a couple of years ago.  A few years ago.  Maybe.  I'm just really glad that she was born and that she is who she is - with all the great parts, and even all of the not so great parts.  She's such a wonderful mom, woman, sister, friend, wife, person.  I'm lucky to know her and call her Mom.

Love you, beautiful mama.

(And you can get over the fact that 

I put your picture on the internet.  

I won't even apologize for it.)

Come on, jump out the door

You can't hold it down no more

I'll show you how the birds learned how to fly

Don't mind leaving your nest

Don't mind making a mess

This might be the best day of your life

- Katie Herzig, "Best Day of Your Life"

The woods became a roofless cathedral about us. 

- Harry Middleton, The Earth is Enough

It's fall...here's what I'm thinking about, and lookin' at, and lovin'...

 

Here's when I'm overwhelmed.

This is amazing!  You can't help but laugh not only at how scared people get, but also what a kick Ellen gets out of scaring people.  I love it.

Family: 

In human context, a family (from Latin: familia) is a group of people affiliated by consanguinity, affinity, or co-residence. In most societies it is the principal institution for the socialization of children. Extended from the human "family unit" by biological-cultural affinity, marriage, economy, culture, tradition, honour, and friendship are concepts of family that are physical and metaphorical, or that grow increasingly inclusive extending to community, village, city, region, nationhood,global village and humanism.

Family on the mind today.  The little one that I've started with a husband and a cat.  The big one I have in North Carolina that fills up three households and then overflows into a couple of others, and is growing; those people that have raised me, or been raised alongside me.  The family that is sprinkled all over this country - some of whom I know well, others whom I don't.  This family I will see sporadically throughout the year, and am looking forward to seeing parts of very soon.  I'm also thinking about the family that I won't be seeing for the first time during Christmas, and how grateful I am for Christmas traditions to begin with my husband, yet how sad I am to miss out on traditions I've known all my life.


The family that is not biologically related to me but is, instead, considered, "family by choice."  Often those are the people that I think aren't related to me, but that relate the best to me.  They know me, they get me.  We're in each others lives in unique and special ways.  Some of these family members are in my life for the day-to-day, mundaneness of life, for which I'm grateful.  Others are thousands of miles and phone calls away, but feel like we haven't missed a second in each others lives.  For this, I'm also grateful.  

Family is so screwed up, but we wouldn't be anywhere without it.  

I love this movie so much.

[Testing the waters for trying to post something on a more regular basis.  I know it won't last for long, but I thought it might be fun.]

Random thought of the day: I'm in a tomboy phase, despite the fact that I was in a very feminine phase two weeks ago when I bought a new pair of high heels.  So, I wear bright red lipstick with my Chuck Taylor's, and I wear ripped jeans with my heels.  I believe this is the quintessential definition of "hipster." Well, crap, now I've done it.  I've officially succumbed to all that is Seattle.  A reference for you from Urban Dictionary:

Although "hipsterism" is really a state of mind, it is also often intertwined with distinct fashion sensibilities. Hipsters reject the culturally-ignorant attitudes of mainstream consumers, and are often be seen wearing vintage and thrift store inspired fashions, tight-fitting jeans, old-school sneakers, and sometimes thick rimmed glasses. Both hipster men and women sport similar androgynous hair styles that include combinations of messy shag cuts and asymmetric side-swept bangs. Such styles are often associated with the work of creative stylists at urban salons, and are usually too "edgy" for the culturally-sheltered mainstream consumer. The "effortless cool" urban bohemian look of a hipster is exemplified in Urban Outfitters and American Apparel ads which cater towards the hipster demographic. (Read more here).

There we have it.  Maybe that's why I'm so confused - because that's the "hipsterism" state of mind.

Quiet day at home.  Hearing the sounds of the city outside my apartment, grateful for where I live and who I live with.  Grateful for people who live near me, and grateful for some who live far.  Noticing the monochrome color scheme of the sky, the apartment buildings across the street, our apartment walls and carpet; grateful for colorful pillows.  For color (like the bright red lipstick I'm wearing on this quiet day at home).  For my cat who gets up from her nap across the room to come and nap next to me.  Grateful for sentimental trinkets and hot tea.  Grateful for this little blog and the people who have followed my life through it.

Shalom.

Miss Representation

Do it, ladies.

[I recommend viewing this in full screen.]

Miss Representation 8 min. Trailer 8/23/11 from Miss Representation on Vimeo.

NewVillager

I am so grateful for friends that recommend amazing music.  Especially when it comes with a video like this.

My professor, on the presence of evil in the therapeutic work:

You are not simply changing the way someone speaks.  You are not simply changing the way someone thinks or feels.  In that moment, you are fighting for someone’s soul.

 Through tears.


Is the work that we're doing making a difference?

Just another reason why Amy Poehler is amazing.  (Click the link on her name!)

More kitchen humor

There really is never a dull moment in the Johnson kitchen.  If you haven't been to our place, I don't think I can really create a picture small enough to describe the size of our kitchen.  It's tiny.  As the owner of a bed-and-breakfast once phrased it, we have a "one-butt kitchen" for sure.  Only one butt can fit in it.  This makes all of our cooking projects pretty interesting.


This weekend we hosted our Sabbath community on Sunday night - the group that meets once a week for a shared meal and time together - about 15 or so.  We decided to make chili because the weather has turned cold and soggy for the season ("crisp" Falls do not exist in this city).  Conscious of our community, we also decided to make two different chili's: one meaty, and one veggie.  Unfortunately, however, we only have one large stock pot big enough to hold an entire batch of chili.  


What to do?  What to do?


Get creative.  


And, boy, did we ever.


And, boy, did we pay.


T (yes, I will blame this on him - it was his boyish curiosity) really wanted to see if the ceramic insert of our crockpot could cook a pot of chili on the stovetop.  I mean, it's meant to get hot, right?  Oh, how you must be chuckling at this point.


I argued - but not hard enough.  "I don't think it's a good idea."  "But it's meant to get hot!"  "Fine, T.  Do whatever you want."


Aye - never good words to utter.


So, as you may have guessed, T put the ceramic crockpot insert onto the large eye of our stove.  In our bedroom, I heard him say, "It smells kind of weird."  But, after a few minutes it seemed to be working ok.  


We had about 45 minutes before our Sabbath group was supposed to arrive, and, as any amateur chef knows, soups need to boil to actually cook all the flavors together.  So, T turns up the heat: medium-high.  I was nervous, standing over the sink, washing a few dishes, my third eye on the stove.  


Then, we hear POP!  


I cursed...loudly, quickly.  One syllable.  Just enough to allow T to utter, "Uh-oh."


"It cracked!"


I frantically began scouring the counters for our oven-mits.  I shoved them in his face.  "It's not hot, Kelsey, it's cracked!" T yelled.  He grabbed both sides of the pot, pushed the halves together, and lifted.  He did not know that a perfect circle had cracked in the bottom of the pot - when he lifted, the bottom of the pot stuck to the eye,  and chili came flowing out like molten lava.  (It seems like our kitchen disasters always involve a molten-lava-like substance).  Yes - a steaming river of chili.


As you can imagine with the burner still on medium-high, the chili instantly started cooking right to the stove.  Not to mention that it also flowed right underneath the burner, covering the innards of stovetop.  Then onto the floor and dripped all over the counter where T carried it to the sink.  Chunks of tomatoes, beans, and zucchini everywhere.  Not to be disgusting, but chili already looks unpleasant as is - when it has been thrown all over kitchen floors, cabinets, and counters it's really appetizing.  You would have thought someone vomited over our entire kitchen.


30 minutes till guests arrive.  What do we do?  We don't have enough for everyone!


"Here, this is big enough to hold all of it," T says, as he pulls our roaster out of the cabinet.  I shrugged, grabbed hold of the roaster, T with his spatula, and began scraping all of the stovetop chili into the pan.  Yes.  Scraping chili into a roasting pan.  Salvaging our crockpot-vomited chili.


I had lost most verbal capabilities at this point.  I chose, very intentionally, to mute myself because I knew that anything that rolled off of my tongue would have been regretted later.  T chuckled as we were scraping glops of chili into a turkey roasting pan and I gave him a look.  "T, I'm sorry, but this just isn't funny to me yet."


At least I knew it would be funny eventually, right?


And yes, we got it cleaned up, heated up, and served on time.  Don't worry, we didn't do any intense scraping so as to get the burned chunks into our friends' dinner.  Gross.  Just the top layer of goodness that we could still salvage.  We told them the story and of course they laughed and were shocked because they had no idea when they came in that anything like that had happened.

I'm so glad we'll have such a substantial repertoire of stories to share with our kids - keeps us humble.  Real, real humble.


T, honey?  You did a real good job.


Ironically, my lovely friend and House of Love roomie, Dana, brought T and I a gift that night as a part of an inside-joke from living together.  While I can't fully describe the extent of the joke, it felt too appropriate for our cooking experience.  Little did she know what this little gift meant!

Little lights

It's no question that I've been swimming in several weeks, or months, of deep, dark waters.  Oceans thick with confusion, haze, frustration, grief, sadness, loneliness have been my playground.  I blend the metaphors intentionally: I'm swimming, I'm playing, I'm falling, I'm drowning, I'm getting back up, I'm climbing, I'm laughing, I'm scared, I'm trying, I'm failing, I'm succeeding.


Yes.


Again, I am.


Yes.


I'm a child.  I'm the parent.  I'm an Olympian.  I'm on the bench.


Our journeys are never linear, right?  We're all over the place - I'm all over the place.  Yes.


Yes, and amen.


Over the weekend, T and I went over to another couple's new place to watch a movie together.  It was lovely to be invited into their new home - a big step for them - and to be invited to just be silly and to simply be.


Ok, so we watched Bridesmaids.  Those of you that read this, I'm sure, have mixed feelings about this movie whether you've seen it or not.  I know for a fact that I have some family members that saw the movie and totally hated it.  Regardless of what you do or don't think about it, however, I have been dying to see it since it was released in the theaters.  I even went with a group of girlfriends to see it, and the theater sold out of tickets by the time half of my group got in!  I...was not one of the ones in.  Very sad day.  Since then, I had been anticipating it's DVD release like crazy.

Let me just tell you - I haven't laughed so hard in such a long time.  I mean, tears-rolling-down-cheeks, stomach-hurting, cheeks-burning laughing.  It's so inappropriate, so crude, and at times so uncomfortable that I wasn't sure I should still be watching.  (But no nudity - which I realized the next day and thought was interesting).  But it was friggin' hysterical.  And, my God, what a relief to laugh and laugh and laugh uncontrollably.  My body had to remember how to do it.  Thank goodness laughing is like riding a bike - but way better.


Also, on the subject of movies, I have to see this.  And so do you.





It looks beautiful!  So sweet, heartfelt, and moving.


Movies may be trite, or a waste of time, but there's something really significant about finding little light points when I'm weighed down so heavily.